Out of my hands….

It’s all out of my hands, these hands holding nothing but emptiness disguised as fullness. The darkness descends inch by inch, scrolling slowly down the blank page.

I am waiting on something I have no control over, which is the root cause of my anxiety. I am waiting on something that is bigger than I will ever be. I cannot outwit it or outrun it. So I stay home alone in the dark.

I believe in what I am waiting on, which is improbably unworkable and yet I cannot stop believing. Faith is like that. It is a dogged descent into the mystery.

I have ruled out so many things. No longer interested in discussions, I drop out of them. I find that a profound relief.

The two seas will meet in the unlikeliest of places, the place that I will never find until I become them. Seas have nothing to say in their seamless surrender.

Vicki Woodyard

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